


The Choices We Can't Make

by ashtraythief



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief Jensen/OFC, Don't copy to another site, Healer Jared, Lap Sex, M/M, POV Outsider, Porn with Feelings, Prince Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Jared and Jensen have been together for years. When Jensen unexpectedly has to marry for a political alliance, Jared doesn’t think it has to change anything. Jensen disagrees.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for salt_burn_porn for zubeneschamali’s prompt: It’s not like you have to mean it.  
> Many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for super speedy betaing.

 

Jared woke to the sun shining into his face. He grumbled and turned over, searching for Jensen’s solid chest. Instead, he found cold sheets.

Displeased, he blinked his eyes open. He looked around the room, but Jensen was nowhere to be found. The sun was still hours away from reaching its zenith and Jensen was not a morning person. So whatever had made him get out of bed at this early hour must be bad. Quickly, Jared got up and threw on some clothes. He hoped the fighting at the Eastern border hadn’t broken out again. They were so close to a peace treaty.

Jensen wasn’t anywhere inside the barrack. Jared finally found him outside, leaning against the railing. From here, the entire training field was visible and in the early morning, the new recruits were doing their best to impress their visiting prince.

“You’re up early,” Jared commented quietly. He stood next to Jensen, close enough for their shoulders to brush.

Jensen continued to watch the recruits.

“What is it?”

“My brother negotiated a peace treaty with the Caharans.”

“That’s amazing!” The war with the Caharans had been going on for years and laid waste to an entire province. While Jensen was a gifted commander, there was only so much he could do with a constant shortage of troops and supplies. But instead of happy, Jensen seemed bitter about it. “Why is this not amazing?”

Jensen finally turned to Jared. “There are stipulations for the treaty.”

“What are they?”

“Marriage.”

Jared’s stomach tightened to knots. “Your sister?” Jensen’s oldest sister was only seventeen, and yet he selfishly hoped it was her they wanted.

But Jensen shook his head. “They want me. So that my son can command their troops. Apparently, the only way for the Caharans to save face in a treaty is to absorb the opposing commander and his blood into their family.”

Jared tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Okay, so you get to marry some Caharanan princess. I mean, that’s obviously not awesome, but if it will bring everlasting peace…”

Jensen nodded and stared back out onto the field. “It’s worth it.”

Jared reached for his hand and Jensen flinched back. “Don’t.”

“What?”

Jensen’s face was tight with pain but he couldn’t look at Jared. “We should make a clean cut. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Jared’s mouth fell open. “Clean cut? What are you talking about?”

Jensen whirled around. “I’m talking about me getting married!”

“So what?”

“ _So what_?”

Jared made a dismissive hand motion. “Jensen, I always knew you’d marry someone else someday. You’re a prince, I’m just a lowly healer.”

“You’re not—“ Jensen started angrily, but Jared wiped his objection away. “I’m a commoner, Jensen, no matter how many royal lives I save.”

Jensen clenched his jaw.

“But what we have is real.” Jared reached for Jensen’s face, felt the stubble under his palms. “I love you. And I always will. It doesn’t matter who you marry.”

Jensen’s face twisted in agony. “Jared, I’ll have to swear an oath.”

“Yeah, but it’s just words, Jensen. You’re a fucking prince, entering a political marriage. No one expects you to be faithful.”

Slowly, Jensen’s hands came up and wrapped around Jared’s wrists. They were calloused from years of wielding swords. Jensen’s brother loved to tell the story of how his little brother had played with toy swords before he could even walk properly. They were strong hands, deft and capable, able to bring pleasure or death in an instant. Now, Jensen used their strength to pull Jared’s hands away from his face.

“I’m going to have to swear an oath, Jared.”

And with that, he turned and walked back inside. “I need to leave today.”

Jared kept standing on the terrace, the rising sun warming his back. Inside, he felt only numbing coldness.

 

Eventually, he followed Jensen to their room. Their room. They’d been doing this for so long, Jared thought of every room they stayed in as theirs. Because wherever Jensen went, Jared went with him. Whether it was in war to save his and his soldiers’ lives, or in peace when Jensen inspected troops and Jared inspected healing soldiers, continuing to work on his rehabilitation routines. The old, venerable doctors of the university had scoffed at him when Jared had studied muscles and tendons to try to repair that what had been lost. But he’d always been fascinated by the body’s ability to heal. And it wasn’t limited to reconnecting severed tissue, no, the body was able to do more.

When the second prince and commander of the kingdom’s forces had been injured in battle, unable to walk without the aid of a stick, the royal physician had remembered the fight about Jared’s dissertation defense. He’d passed, instead of the usual unanimous vote with a three to two argument, because two of the esteemed doctor’s had thought his work nonsense. But faced with a crippled warrior, the royal physician had left no stone unturned.

So Jared had become Jensen’s doctor. Remembering their first meeting never failed to put a smile on Jared’s face.

 

Prince Jensen looked at him in surprise.

“What?” Jared asked, too stunned by the prince’s beauty to remember to be polite.

“I thought you’d be older,” the prince said, almost sheepishly. “And, uh, shorter. Not as broad shouldered. You look more like a warrior than a doctor.”

Jared laughed. “It takes some strength to work with broken bodies,” he said.

Jensen’s face darkened and he glared at his leg. “Yeah.”

“Hey, broken is not bad,” Jared said. “Broken can be fixed.”

Jensen raised a sharp eyebrow at him. “This injury is three months old. I still can’t walk, still can’t feel half my leg.”

“You can’t feel it? That’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Jensen’s voice was cold.

“From a medical standpoint,” Jared added sheepishly. “May I?”

“Well, you can’t make it worse, I guess.”

“That’s what the professors said when they gave me my degree,” Jared muttered and went to his knees in front of Jensen.

“What?”

Jared grinned. “Nothing. If you could take your pants off…”

For a moment, Jensen stared and Jared thought he saw something flash in the prince’s green eyes, something dark and heavy before he opened his pants and exposed his left leg, the ragged scar running down his thigh a fading pink.

Jared had focused on matters at hand then, on Jensen’s injury, and the strange numbness that afflicted him, which turned out not to come from the injury at all, but a false posture of hip and back due to the pain of walking. But he hadn’t forgotten the heat in Jensen’s eyes. And he hadn’t been wrong about it either.

Jensen had held back, hadn’t wanted to take advantage of Jared being in his service, and Jared hadn’t wanted to jeopardize their relationship during Jensen’s recovery. But when he’d declared Jensen fully healed, he’d suggested he help Jensen try out his full range of motion. Right there, in Jensen’s bed. And Jensen had only hesitated a moment before he’d agreed. Enthusiastically and repeatedly.

The success of the treatment had secured Jared a position with the military’s medical unit and no one had ever tried to stop him from accompanying Jensen. Officially, he was Jensen’s private physician, but Jensen actually didn’t get injured a lot so Jared had lots of time to examine and treat other soldiers. Even the university had come crawling back and asked him to lecture on the rehabilitation of muscles and joints after a traumatic injury. Jared had happily obliged, and if he’d rubbed it in his old examiner’s faces, well, they deserved it. But he hadn’t stayed, had always gone back to Jensen and Jensen had always received him with open arms.

And now, because Jensen was going to marry, it was just supposed to be over?

 

In their room, Jensen was packing.

“Jensen…”

Jensen’s shoulder’s tensed under his beige shirt.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jared said softly.

“Am I not a man of honor?” Jensen’s voice was hard. “Do you think so little of me?”

“Jensen, I think the world of you.”

Jensen slumped, dropped the shirt he’d been holding onto the bed.

“I know you’ll treat your bride well. I know you’ll do anything in your power to make her happy, to raise your children well. I always knew you would, eventually. But Jensen, I am yours too. How can you just cast me aside? Cast _us_ aside?”

Finally, Jensen faced him. His face was drawn in a pain that Jared remembered from their earlier sessions, when Jensen hadn’t had hope yet, when he'd seen only endless pain and an impaired gait in his future.

“I don’t want to. But I can’t honor a marriage while keeping a lover.”

“So, what, this was always just a limited time thing?” Jared asked incredulously. “When you told me you would love me forever, those were just what, empty promises?”

“I didn’t know I’d have to marry for the Caharan treaty!” Jensen exploded.

“Yeah, but you knew you’d need to marry sometime, Jensen! You’re the goddamn prince!” Jared dragged a hand through his hair. “What did you think was going to happen to us?”

Jensen swallowed visibly, lips pressed together, but he didn’t reply.

“Great. That’s just great.” Jared let himself sink into the chair in the corner of the room. “Three years, Jensen.”

His eyes started to sting and Jared furiously blinked the tears away. “What were those to you, huh? A pleasant pastime? A convenient affair?”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Suddenly, Jensen was kneeling in front of him, hands digging into Jared’s hips. “Don’t. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Jared nodded. “Because I healed you.”

Jensen snarled and surged up to kiss him. “Because I love you. Because you’re sunshine and laughter, and witty conversation, and because you’re so fucking strong and you never give up. Even if my leg hadn’t gotten better at all, I still would have loved you.”

“Then how can you just decide to give this up?” Jared reached for Jensen’s face again.

Jensen turned his head, pressed a kiss to Jared’s palm. “Because I have a responsibility to the throne. If I want my brother to rule a peaceful land, I need to do my part.”

“And you can do that with me.” Angrily, Jared pushed Jensen away and stood. “Kings take lovers all the time! Your grandfather was the king of concubines! And did it hurt anyone? No!”

“Jared—”

“You and your wife won’t even be together most of the time. You’ll still be traveling and she’ll be in the castle and nothing will change except that you have to father a son with her! No one will expect you to try for a real marriage with her!”

“I know,” Jensen said quietly.

“Then why?”

“Because I will swear an oath,” Jensen said with finality. “I will swear to love and cherish her, to protect and to serve her. I will swear to put her above all others.”

Jared swallowed and pretended hearing saying Jensen say those words didn’t matter. “So?”

“I love _you_ above all others,” Jensen’s voice was hoarse. “I cherish _you_ above all others. I want to protect and to serve _you_. And I want to put _you_ above all others. And I won’t be able to. And I can’t—I can’t treat you like you’re second best. I can’t be with you, only to rush away from you whenever I need to. I can’t make a choice and not choose you.” Jensen dragged a hand over his face. “I cannot swear to put someone else first and be with you. That’s not what you deserve.”

“Don’t I get to decide what I deserve?” Jared asked.

Jensen looked at him, with the same resolute expression he’d given the block Jared had told him to balance on one-legged. “I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Jensen—”

“Just think about it, Jared. They would always be more important. My wife, the children we’ll have. They’ll always come first. They’ll always pull me away from you. And you’d resent them for it. Or, even worse, I’d resent them for it.”

And Jared could see it in Jensen’s eyes; he’d never be able to convince Jensen.

“You deserve to be the most important person in someone’s life, but it can’t be in mine.”

“It’s the only one I ever wanted,” Jared said bitterly.

Jensen gave him a sad smile. “That’s not true. Remember when we met, and all you dreamed of was to go back to the university and stick it to your old examiners?”

“Yeah, but—”

“And how you dreamed of finding ways to help people that everybody had written off already?”

“Yes, but—”

“Jared, you have a purpose in life. You’re the most gifted healer I’ve ever met and you will continue to do that. You’ll continue to find new ways to help people. You’ll have a life.”

“Without you.”

Jensen’s face sobered. “Without me.”

“Well, excuse me if I think that’s a crappy life.” Then he turned around and left. He couldn’t look at Jensen anymore.

 

When Jared returned to their room at nightfall, all of Jensen’s things were gone. There was a note on the bed.

_I will recommend you to be named first physician of the military. You will be able to do whatever you want._

Jared picked up the paper and crumpled it in his hands.

He didn’t sleep that night. The bed still smelled of them. So Jared ran through the latest treatment plan he was compiling for lower back pain. It was more of a scribal than warrior affliction but the military employed a great many secretaries and archivists, and they deserved his help too.

Jared only stopped when the sun rose. He stood and his entire back ached. He let out a short, harsh laugh at the irony, and then went through his own morning routine. Usually, he and Jensen exercised together. But they did different routines. Jensen focused on strength and balance while Jared used an array of exercises to stretch and center himself. But it felt like something was missing. Jensen’s even breathing, his occasional remark or short heated looks that meant they’d go right back to bed after they were done.

Furiously, Jared packed his clothes and had a servant bring his horse. He didn’t ride south towards the capital. He turned his horse west, to one of the military’s big hospitals. Using his treatment routines, rehabilitation programs had been established in the past year, but there was still so much work to be done. And apparently, that was all that mattered in his life anymore.

 

Jared worked. He examined patients, tried out exercises, came up with new and improved treatment options. He kept meticulous accounts of patient progress.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Jensen.

_I love you above all others._

Every time he stopped, every time he took a break, Jensen was there.

_You deserve to be the most important person in someone’s life, but it can’t be in mine._

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand, on some remote, removed, theoretical level. Sharing Jensen, being his partner in the shadows only, always ranking after his wife, it would hurt. It would frustrate, and it would cause pain. But it would be better than nothing, better than this gaping hole in his chest. Jared had always known it would happen somehow. Jensen was a prince, there was no other way than a political marriage. Had Jensen just not thought about it?

_I can’t make a choice and not choose you._

Had Jensen imagined he’d never have to make that choice? Had Jensen thought he’d never have to marry?

They had never talked about it. But Jared hadn’t been eager to discuss having to share Jensen eventually. Hadn’t been eager to think about it. He’d pushed it away, consoled himself it would be a cold political marriage, with Jensen and his wife not even living in the same place, just sleeping with each other often enough to have a few children, live in mutual, but distant respect, while Jared got to be with Jensen wherever he traveled. Wherever he was.

What had Jensen thought?

Jared thought back to their fight. How Jensen had stayed silent when he’d asked the question then.

_I can’t make a choice and not choose you._

Jared called for a servant to saddle his horse. He needed to talk to Jensen again.

 

“Did you really think you could have gotten away with it?”

Jensen froze. He was on one knee, the other leg stretched out behind him, one arm raised in the air, body turned to the side. Open side hip stretch, Jared called it. Courting bird, Jensen called it.

“Get away with what?” Jensen held the pose, his naked torso covered in a thin sheen sweat. His light skin was slightly flushed, highlighting the freckles on his shoulders and arms. The graceful line of his spine flexed as he turned back to the ground, resting on all fours, before he slowly stood.

Jared had always thought Jensen had the most beautiful back he’d ever seen.

“Get away with not marrying at all.”

Jensen went over to the sideboard and picked up a towel. Jared watched him, saw the slight tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in his gait. Jensen was buying time.

“Jared—”

“See, I racked my brain. How you could justify having this relationship with me, loving me, with knowing that one day you’d have to dump me.”

Jensen flinched.

“Because you’ve thought about it before, haven’t you? This, ‘making a clean cut’ that wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. You’ve thought about it before.”

“Of course I did,” Jensen said curtly.

Jared nodded. “But you never talked with me about it. You just pretend it would never happen. And I asked myself, if you love me like you say you do—”

Jensen spun around. “How can you even doubt that?”

“—then how could you do that, knowing you’d marry one day. So, did you think you’d get away with it? With not marrying at all?”

Lines of pain were etched into Jensen’s face when he looked at him. “Don’t make us have this conversation.”

“Why not?” Jared asked and he felt a perverse pleasure at Jensen’s pain.

“Because I can never lie to you.” Self-deprecatingly, Jensen raised a shoulder. “You can read my body like an open book.”

“I need to hear it, Jensen. If you really want this to end, I need closure. And you owe me that much.”

Jensen reached for his shirt and put it on with choppy movements. “I didn’t think I’d get away with it,” he said. “I always knew I had to marry someday. But I didn’t think they’d need me for a dynastical marriage. I have three younger sisters. I command our army. My brother—I thought I had more time.”

“Time for us? So we can drag this out a few more years? So it hurts even more when it’s over?” Jared scoffed. “And you never once thought to talk to me about this?”

“I thought I had more time!” Jensen shouted. He stalked over to his desk and ripped the central drawer open. He pulled out a little box. He regarded it for a moment, then he tossed it to Jared.

Jared caught it out of reflex, nothing else.

“I thought I had more time.” Jensen’s voice was filled with bitterness.

Jared’s fingers shook when he pried the box open. There was a ring in there.

“I thought _we_ had more time.”

It was a signet ring, like the one Jensen wore. It was the same crest, the outlines of two eagles framing a green oval stone.

“First physician of the military. It’s the highest civilian position in the army, usually held by someone from the nobility. And I know you think the old doctors at the university don’t like you, but that’s just a few bitter old quacks. The provost quite admires what you do.”

But where Jensen’s stone was engraved with the howling wolf, his heraldic animal, this stone showed a short stick and a vial crossed over each other, the doctors’ insignia.

“They would have offered you a professorship, maybe dean of the medical faculty. You would have excelled and they would have given you a place on the board. And that comes with a knighthood.”

Jared’s head whipped up.

“Just a few more years and not a single person could have protested when my brother would have given you a lord’s title.”

Jared’s throat went dry. His heartbeat was impossibly loud in his chest.

“I didn’t talk to you about it,” Jensen said slowly, “because when I wanted to ask, I wanted to do it right.”

Jared’s eyes burned and he blinked.

Jensen gave him a watery smile.

Jared’s hand closed around the ring. “You fucking bastard.”

“The job is still yours. My brother will still knight you when the time comes. It’s—you deserve it.”

“I don’t care about the title,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded. “I know. But it’s important. People need to see. Who you are. What you’re worth.”

Silence stretched between them, neither of them willing to break eye contact. But there was nothing left to say. Even though he’d fought it, Jared understood. It would destroy Jensen to do justice to his wife and family, and Jared. And Jared knew, deep down inside, that the jealousy would be unbearable. Knowing he wasn’t the one with the ring, knowing he wasn’t the one Jensen held above all others, even if it might be true in his heart.

He turned the ring over in his hand. “A clean cut then?”

Jensen drew in a sharp breath. “Yeah. A clean cut.”

Jared nodded, jerkily. “Okay. Good. But—”

“What?” Jensen’s answer was quick, urgent.

“I need to say goodbye. Properly.”

Jensen looked outside the window. The sun was just beginning its descent, the bright daylight giving way to the blueish early evening hue.

“We have the whole night,” Jensen said. “Tomorrow, I ride to the border.”

Jared’s feet carried him over to Jensen of their own accord. He stretched the ring out to Jensen.

Carefully, Jensen took it, but his hand hesitated, stretched out between them. “Will you—I have no right to ask this, but for tonight...”

Jared held out his hand. Slowly, Jensen slid the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly.

“Your hands touch me so often, I have them memorized.” Jensen’s voice was low and heavy. He held on to Jared’s hand turned it around and traced the lines of his palm. “I cursed them, the first few weeks, when you’d always find a painful spot to poke me, when you’d push me to do more, to exercise harder. But then you’d touch me so gently. You knew, how to touch me. You knew my body in a way I didn’t think was possible.”

He turned his head up and brushed Jared’s mouth in a fleeting kiss, just lips against lips, a short moment of contact.

“I always will.” Jared’s voice was rough with the meaning of it. He’d touched Jensen so often, mapped out his muscles, the bones underneath, the way his body worked. He knew every inch of it, branded forever into his sense memory. If someone put a block of clay in front of him, he could sculpt Jensen’s form with his eyes closed.

“Still. Touch me one last time?”

The words got stuck in his throat, so Jared just nodded.

“Jay, I’m so sorry,” Jensen said and pulled his head down to kiss him. He pressed a kiss to his lips, to the tip of his nose. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed his cheeks and his eyelids. “So sorry.”

“Don’t,” Jared pressed out. “If this is our last night, I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Okay.”

And Jensen kissed him again, mouth on mouth, dragged his tongue along Jared’s bottom lip and licked inside his mouth when he opened for him.

Jensen’s hands slowly pushed Jared’s jacket off his shoulders, opened the buttons of his shirt without fumbling. Jensen’s hands were always sure, steady and precise. With the same precision he used wielding a sword, he traced Jared’s abdominal muscles, the cut of his hip bone. With the strength that held his shield, he held Jared’s hips, pulling him along as he walked them back to the bed.

Jared reached for Jensen’s shoulder to steady himself, then traced the groove above his clavicle with his fingers. He followed the swell of Jensen’s trapezius to the bony knobs of his shoulder joint, down over the rounded muscle and the curved line of his biceps.

He looked up at Jensen’s face when he realized Jensen had stopped kissing him. Instead, Jensen was watching him with soft fondness.

Jared tried for a cheeky smile. “Just because I remember doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy refreshing those memories.”

Jensen laughed, a rough, low sound that slid down Jared’s spine like a glass of good liquor. “Refresh all you want. I certainly don’t mind.”

Jared gripped Jensen’s shoulders tight and pushed him down on the bed. Jensen went willingly, his stomach muscles tensing as he laid back down. His body wasn’t as defined as Jared’s, who’d tried to come up with exercises for every specific muscle group, turning his body in an anatomical model of human physicality. Jensen trained for strength and functionality, for what would help him in battle. Jared might not be able to see every muscle strand under his skin, but Jensen was real, solid strength, and if they ever measured their strength, Jared knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. It gave him comfort, to know that Jensen could beat every opponent battle would throw at him. He still had scars, still had injuries. But he survived.

With now steady hands, Jared opened Jensen’s pants, pulled them down to reveal his legs, and the scar that had brought them together. Jared knelt at the foot of the bed and ran a hand up Jensen’s right leg, past an old arrow wound on his calf, up to the still raised scar on his thigh. The numbness had disappeared, and so had the weakness. After an extremely brutal workout, Jensen still felt a twinge, but otherwise, nothing but the silver sliver of skin remained. Jared leaned down to kiss it, followed the line with his nose.

Jensen drew in a sharp breath and he rested a hand on Jared’s head, gently sliding his fingers through Jared’s hair.

Jared moved further up. Jensen’s cock was already hard, just waiting for his touch. But Jared kept a hand on Jensen’s thigh, felt the impatient muscle twitch when he nosed up Jensen’s hip, followed the faint midline that bisected his abdomen until he reached his ribs.

“Fucking tease,” Jensen bit out.

Jared laughed into his sternum, then moved his head to gently brush his mouth over his chest, another scar, looking worse than it was, just a superficial cut across his ribs. Then even higher, another round arrow wound below his right clavicle. This one more dangerous, two days in bed where Jensen had impatiently beleaguered him to let him up and Jared had only kept him in bed on the second day by joining him.

“Jared.” It was soft, adoring.

Jared settled across Jensen’s hips, let him take his weight, thighs across thighs, pelvis to pelvis, and Jensen groaned when their dicks rubbed against each other. Jared leaned down to kiss the noise out of his mouth.

They kissed, slow and deep, sharing air and heat. Jensen’s hands remained buried in Jared’s hair. He’d teased Jensen he should have been a barber, he was so obsessed with Jared’s hair. Jensen made an affronted noise every time. “As if I’d ever cut it.”

So Jared kept it long, let it grow down to his shoulders, so Jensen could twist and play with the strands, gentle tugs or hard pulls, depending on where the mood took them.

Now there was nothing but gentle reverence when he dug his fingers into Jared’s hair when he moved his head to kiss him deeper when he held him close.

Jared slowly moved on top of Jensen as he undulated his hips in an unhurried rhythm, savoring skin on skin, Jensen’s muscles contracting and tensing under his own. But when Jensen’s hands moved to Jared’s hips, drawing him down harder, it sent a sudden burst of heat through him.

Jensen softly bit into his lower lip, then moved his mouth along Jared’s neck, making him pant at the wet heat of Jensen’s tongue on his skin, a hint of teeth punctuating every move. “C’mon Jay. Let me.”

Impossibly, Jared managed to pull back. He looked into Jensen’s lust blown eyes, the green of his iris almost eaten up by the black of the pupil. His cheeks were flushed and his lips kissed deep cherry red.

“Yeah,” Jared managed to get out. “You can.”

He bent down again, kissed along Jensen’s throat, traced his quick but strong pulse, bit into the soft skin where it beat the strongest.

Jensen groaned but his chest and shoulders flexed and the nightstand drawer screeched when he opened it. Then Jensen’s hands were on Jared’s ass again, warm and slick, and Jared curved his back, pushing into Jensen’s hands.

“Fuck.” Jensen’s breathing sped up. “So fucking beautiful.”

Jared let out a hoarse laugh because Jensen’s eyes were screwed shut while he traced Jared’s opening.

“You can’t even see.”

“You’re not the only one who can see with your hands,” Jensen ground out, and to prove it, he circled Jared, before slipping a finger inside him.

Jared pushed back with a pleased sigh. “Yeah, you can.”

He leaned up again to kiss Jensen, but his attention was torn between his mouth and his clever fingers, getting Jared slick and ready, and sending sparks up his spine all the while. Jensen’s hands had never been about prep, they’d always been everything. And if Jared wasn’t so desperate to feel Jensen, deep inside, he might have let him finish like this, holding him tight. But the night had only just begun.

“Fuck me,” he said into Jensen’s mouth. “Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Jensen’s hands slid back to Jared’s hip, helping him to position himself. Jared reached for Jensen, traced his length with his fingers and when he pushed his thumb under the crown, Jensen threw his head back, muscles of his throat working.

Jared relished his weight, the silkiness of the skin in contrast to the hardness underneath. Slowly, he raised himself up and Jensen’s eyes focused back on him. Jared knew Jensen loved watching himself sink into Jared but now his eyes were locked on Jared’s face.

The stretch was so good, familiar in a way that still made him feel like his bones were liquefying. He sat down fully, let Jensen take his weight, and Jensen’s hands were there to steady him.

He only realized he’d closed his eyes when he opened them again and found Jensen still watching him, intense gaze burning up at Jared from under his lashes. “So fucking beautiful.”

Jared gave him a soft smile, then tilted his hip. Jensen sucked in a breath.

Jared reached for his mouth, dragged a finger across his bottom lip. Lightning quick, Jensen moved his head, softly biting into Jared’s finger. Then he pressed a kiss to it. “Please, Jay.”

He pushed his hips up, driving his cock in deeper and Jared sighed. “Yeah.”

Jared started moving. He set a slow rhythm, taking Jensen in all the way every time. Jensen’s fingers pressed bruises into his skin, just like he wanted. Then Jensen tilted his hips and hit Jared’s sweet spot.

Jared panted out a breath and let himself fall forward onto his arms. One of Jensen’s hands came up to his face, traced his jawline, and Jared started fucking him in earnest. He felt the sweat gathering at his hairline and running down his back, and Jensen pulled him down and licked at his throat. Jensen’s cock inside of him was a hot heavy brand, and the heat in his lower belly spread. The pressure built and Jared’s movement got choppy. Jensen reached for him and then sat up, pulling up his legs to support Jared’s thighs.

Their rhythm went wild, quicker and harder, and they were both chasing their climax.

“Come on, Jay.” Jensen rough voice reverberated through Jared’s entire body. “Want to feel you come for me.”

“Yes, so close, Jen.”

Jensen drew him in closer and reached for Jared’s cock. Pressure and rough, calloused skin and Jared threw his arms around Jensen’s broad shoulders, buried his head in his neck and held on for dear life as the pressure in his lower body grew until it finally became too much.

“Jensen.”

“Yeah, Jay.”

Jensen’s lips found his neck again, pressed little butterfly kisses against his skin while he kept muttering Jared’s name, over and over again.

Jared came with Jensen’s name on his lips, and the pleasure tore through his body and he felt Jensen’s body lock up as his hips pushed up one last violent time, driving himself so deep into Jared.

“Yes.”

Jared gripped him tighter, felt Jensen’s chest rapidly expand with every breath and felt his heart hammering in his chest. Jensen’s breath was quick and loud, and Jared clung to him, listening to all the signs of his life.

Slowly, he became aware of Jensen’s hands drawing soothing circles on his back, on the pressure in his thighs. Jensen must be feeling the sting even more, taking Jared’s weight but he didn’t say anything, just held him in his arms.

And Jared didn’t want to pull back, he didn’t want to look at Jensen, didn’t want this to be over and start saying goodbye. So he stayed where he was, his face pressed against Jensen’s neck.

“Okay,” Jensen said softly, and his voice was still rough. “Come on.” He nudged Jared up and then lay back against the pillows, taking Jared with him.

Jared scooted down and to the side, curling into Jensen’s chest with his head pillowed over his heart. Jensen’s hand found his way into Jared’s hair again and with the other he took Jared’s hand, the one with the ring. He dragged his fingertips over the ring.

“Jared…”

“No talking,” Jared said hoarsely. “Not yet. We still have the whole night.”

“Okay.” Jensen pressed a kiss to Jared’s forehead. “But it’s my turn next.”

Jared looked up, into Jensen's face and his mischievous smile. There were still creases around his eyes and Jared could see the sadness lingering in his eyes, but for now, Jared would focus on that smile. “You sure you can handle that? Don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

Jensen growled and rolled Jared onto his back. “I’ll show you overexertion.”

Jared laughed, wild and loud, and for a moment, it felt like any other night. He pulled Jensen down between his legs. Just for one more night, it would be.

 

The morning dawned too early. They hadn’t slept. The bed smelled like them, the pillows strewn all across the floor.

“I need to go,” Jensen said but made no move to get up.

“I can’t say goodbye,” Jared said. “Just… leave.”

For a moment Jensen’s arms around him tightened, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then he stood. Jensen always did what needed to be done.

“I love you.”

Jared looked up at him, the early morning light throwing soft shadows over his hard body. “I have to forget that.”

Jensen nodded, then he turned away. He washed and then got dressed, like he did every morning. Jared listened to the familiar sounds he’d listened to for the past three years and that he’d never hear again.

When Jensen was done, he paused in the doorway. He looked back at Jared, face half hidden in the shadows. Jared tried to make out his expression, tried to read the hard line around his mouth.

“Jensen?”

No answer.

Jared closed his eyes. “Please. Go. I can’t—”

“Jared.” Jensen’s voice was hoarse, but unwavering. “I can’t make a choice and not choose you.” Then he turned and left.

Jared clenched his fist, felt the weight of the ring. He’d never had a choice. He turned his head, buried his nose in the pillow. Inhaled. Once. Deeply. He’d get up. In a moment.

 

 


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one just wouldn't let me go. And I kept thinking, but what about Jensen's poor wife?

 

 

Jensen does marry the Caharan princess. Megalyn is petite and dark, with curly black hair and big brown eyes that are so dark they’re almost obsidian. She’s lovely. The bards sing odes to her beauty. She smiles shyly at him when they’re standing under the flower arcade and speak their oaths.

Jensen hasn’t seen Jared in two months. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking of him. But he needs to, now. Jared can’t be in his wedding bed.

His wife is lovely, and even though she’s shy, she’s brave. She doesn’t hesitate, undresses in front of him like they’ve known each other for years, not days. She’s beautiful, and Jensen touches her everywhere, memorizes her softness. She’s not shy anymore then, opening up in his arms like a flower under the sun. He kisses her and he cherishes her, like he swore he’d do.

After, she whispers a _thank you_ and tells him that she was scared, but now she knows she doesn’t have to be. He thinks that they can make this work. He can make this work.

She falls asleep in his arms. He turns his head towards her, and her hair tickles his nose. It’s curly and smells like roses. Jensen can’t breathe.

He slides out of bed without disturbing her. He remembers straight hair, sleek and soft, that smelled fresh like blue vervain. He opens a window and leans his head out. He doesn’t know how to do this.

He goes back to bed eventually, but he never touches her hair again. And after the first night, when he wakes with the smell of roses in his nose, he never sleeps in her bed again.

 

When she is twelve years old, little princess Sahana falls off her horse, breaks her leg in three places, and Megalyn insists on Jared as her doctor (he’s really got a reputation now. Of course, everyone knows he used to sleep with the prince, Jensen’s wife knows it too, but it’s her _kid_ ).

She and Jensen actually have a really good relationship built on mutual respect. She loves him, too, because how could she not? Jensen’s honorable and kind, and strong and smart, and handsome to boot. He cherishes her and he loves and dotes on their two children. And she thinks that they’re good. He never strayed, never went back to his old love. He kisses her cheek and holds her hand. He treats her gently, lovingly. She thinks that he does love her. He’s not a man of intense emotions, her husband, but yes, she does think he’s grown to love her. He’s more open and affectionate with their children, treats them with a pure joy she thinks is due to their innocence. And when she tells Jensen that she called on Jared and she hopes it’s not going to be a problem, Jensen shakes his head. And it’s not going to be a problem, because Jensen leaves. Troop inspection. She worries, for a moment, but she guesses it would have been awkward.

Jared can’t say no of course. Not to the princess. And not to Jensen's daughter. The little princess is a spitfire, and she’s just so angry at her leg, she reminds Jared so much of Jensen. And it hurts. So deep. But Jared does his work. It’s gruelling. Princess Sahana is just twelve. She’s resilient, but she’s also growing. If they don’t fix it right she’s going to grow into her leg wrong. So Jared works with her, day in and day out. And they get along. Jared’s pretty sure the princess has a crush on him. (Sahana of course has no idea about her father and her doctor. She just sees a handsome, tall man, with long shiny hair and soulful kaleidoscopic eyes. She’s _in love_ , okay?) Jared stays with them on the country estate. And at some point Jensen has to come back.

And Jensen’s wife realizes that Jensen never grew to love her. He respects her and he likes her and he treats her with all the care and respect she could hope for, but he never loved her. Because he’s never looked at her like he looks at Jared. His eyes have never burned with that all consuming fire when he looked at her, like he looks at Jared now, all his attention on Jared’s face, like the world will end if he looks away. His entire body is tense, as if he has to hold himself back from running over there, his fingers clench, as if he wants to bury them in Jared’s hair. Helplessly, she watches as Jared returns the look, as everything around them disappears and for an endless moment, they’re only aware of each other. Then the children run toward Jensen and Sahana happily shows off walking without a cane and the spell breaks. Jared steals away while Jensen hugs his children.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen says to her later. “I didn’t mean for you to see that. You deserve better.”

“It’s been fourteen years.”

Jensen lets out a bitter laugh, a sound so harsh she’s never heard from him before. “It feels like it was just yesterday.”

“Why did you give him up?” Megalyn can't help but ask. “No one would have stopped you from having a lover.”

“It wouldn’t have been fair,” he says. “I swore an oath.”

For a moment, she thinks that he means her, that it wouldn’t have been fair to her. But then she realizes that it has never been about her.

That night, she can’t fall asleep. Jensen always sleeps in his own rooms. In the beginning, after their first night together, she’d entertained romantic notions that despite common conventions, they’d share a bed, but after the wedding night he’d always slept in his own rooms. Had always left after they had sex. He’d held her, and stroked her back, and sometimes she got to fall asleep in his arms, but she always woke alone. She’d learned to live with it. She’d thought, that was what it was like. They were still a loving couple. But now that she’s seen what love could really be like, what Jensen is like when he loves, she doesn’t know if she can live with a shadow of it.

They split their time between Larencius and Caharan. When the time comes for their biannual trip, she tells him she’ll go alone. And that she won’t come back.

“What?”

“I talked to my sister. We have done our duty. The treaty will hold. I think the children should still split their time between Larencius and Caharan until they’re old enough to decide where they want to live.”

He drags a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I can—whatever it is that you need—”

She presses a finger to his mouth. “You can’t give me what I need. I thought we were fine before, but now, I can’t go back. I can’t live with you, knowing that your heart is elsewhere.”

He looks at her, and his face cracks open with pain and sorrow. Fourteen years, she thinks. Fourteen years, he was faithful to her, cherished her and treated her gently, while he loved a man he couldn’t have. And she hadn’t even noticed.

“I appreciate, that you tried.” She gives him a smile. “And I was never unhappy. You are a good husband. But Jensen, I can’t live with a shadow of your love.”

He opens his mouth, but she shakes her head. “I exonerate you of your oath. I am no longer the one you have to love and cherish, I am no longer the one you have to protect and serve.” Hot tears streak down her cheeks, but she keeps talking. “I am no longer the one you have to hold above all others.”

Jensen takes her hand. “I do care for you. Deeply. In another life…”

She squeezes his hand. “I understand. We don’t choose who we love. But I deserve more than this. And so do you.”

Jensen raises her hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to it. “Thank you.”

She steps up to him and kisses his cheek, one last time. Then she turns away.

She doesn’t look back. She never liked this country, too flat and not enough trees. She still cries when she crosses the border. Not for the marriage she had, that is over now. She cries for the marriage she never had. The one that could have been, if her husband hadn’t given his heart away before they ever met.

And maybe, one day, when her heart doesn’t feel like it’s been cracked and torn and thrown away, maybe then she can even be happy for him. Maybe then, she’ll be able to find a man who will swear the oath for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of people hoped Megalyn would get happiness, and she does!  
> She goes back to Caharan, where she meets a brilliant and kind scholar who falls head over heels in love with her and cannot believe the princess would ever return his affections. He's tall and a little lanky, he blinks when he's confused and he has a beautiful smile. He's a little scatterbrained, and a lot enthusiastic, and he tells her the most wonderful stories of the legends and myths he studies. They fill her evening hours, that would otherwise be empty and dark, with candlelight and laughter. She's intruiged and entertained, astonished and amused. And when he touches her for the first time, his hands tremble. He's the total opposite of Jensen, and exctly what she needs.  
> And when they swear their oaths, there's no one in their hearts but each other.


	3. Epilogue II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my muse agreed that they should meet again.

 

 

It hurts. It still hurts so much.

Somewhere over the past fourteen years, Jared had forgotten how much it can hurt. His wounded heart never really healed, the ache never truly went away. He’d just learned how to deal.

Jared had to make a life without Jensen, and it had taken a long time for the pain to become a distant background noise. He’d thrown himself into his work. Patients, the university. Men to warm his bed in the dark hours of the night, the occasional partner who accompanied him during the day. They never stuck around. He could never give them enough. So he worked. He treated soldiers, but never where Jensen was. It didn’t make a difference. Everybody knew that they had been in love. Now, they felt sorry for him. Jared could see it in their eyes, in the way they’d give him sad smiles or encouraging pats on the shoulder after he fitted a brace or massaged a hardened muscle.

“I’m sorry,” they said.

“Fate was in a cruel mood,” they said.

“You deserve better,” they said.

“I was always rooting for you,” they said. “You were a good fit.”

Jared pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything. They meant well. They didn't deserve what he’d say if he opened his mouth. That it hurt, more than anything. That he’d thought they could make it. That he’d wanted to hate Jensen’s wife, but couldn't. That he’d wanted to hate Jensen, but couldn’t. That he only hated himself, for being so naive. That he’d tried to tell himself he could have Jensen forever, even though he’d known Jensen would marry. That he’d thought it would be okay.

It wouldn’t have been.

Jared had gone to the wedding. He’d needed to see it, with his own eyes.

The Caharan princess was beautiful. A little intimidated, but she put on a brave face. Jensen was nothing but gentle politeness. And when they swore their oaths, she so hopeful and open, and Jensen so earnest and focused, Jared had felt physically ill. The muscles in his stomach had felt like they’d contract to stone, and the muscles of his heart like they’d torn, fiber from fiber.

Jensen was right. Jared couldn’t have done it. He couldn’t have stayed with him, knowing what happened every time Jensen had to go back to her. Knowing that she was the one Jensen would hold above all others, above him.

That didn’t make it hurt any less.

But Jared hadn’t given up. He’d picked up the pieces. He’d healed.

And when he saw Jensen again, when their eyes met after fourteen years, and the air between them still cracked and burned, and Jared still knew exactly how Jensen’s callused hands would feel in his hair, still knew how soft and warm his breath would be against Jared’s, still knew how he’d have to curve his fingers to fit them around the shape of Jensen’s shoulders, well, the wound had cracked open again. It throbbed and bled, and Jared knew he’d have to start over again.

And now, barely begun to heal, the wound is torn again, bleeding and festering, ripped open by the stories of Princess Megalyn returning to Caharan. Without Jensen.

Jared is up north, visiting his patients at a rehabilitation camp when the rumors reach him.

“I was always rooting for you,” one of the older soldiers says.

“You deserve to be happy,” a young archer says.

“Fate’s finally smiling on you again,” a soldier says while he’s learning to balance on one leg.

“I’m really happy for you,” another says as he stretches his stiff arm.

Jared presses his lips together and doesn’t answer. Princess Megalyn left Laurentius three weeks ago. He hasn’t heard from Jensen.

He hoped. Expected it.

That one look that they shared. Jared had seen in Jensen’s eyes what he’d never hidden from him, not the first time they met, not any day they spent together, not the morning Jensen left him.

They hadn’t been in the same room for fourteen years, but Jensen’s eyes had still burned full of love.

So Jared expects a message. A letter. A visit. It hasn’t even occurred to him that Jensen won’t come back.

Jared has built a life without Jensen, but there was always that empty space he’s never managed to fill. Not with work, not with other men. He learned to live with it. But now that Jensen’s wife has left, he hasn’t even considered that Jensen won’t come back to him.

It hurts. But now, Jared can do more than let the wound heal. Now he can heal the cause.

Jared calls for a servant to bring his horse.

 

It takes him three weeks to ride to the Eastern Mountains. Bandits are ravaging the area, and Jensen is there to draw up a new strategy and boost the morale of the troops. Jared hates seeing Jensen fight, put his life in danger, but the effect it has on his soldiers is undeniable. They fight better, harder, more courageous when their prince is leading them into battle himself.

When Jared enters the camp, silence falls. It’s late afternoon, and the camp is in ordered chaos. Jared knows this state, just after the return of the troops. The injured being tended to, weapons heaped off to be cleaned, soldiers resting and looking after another.

Those who are able to stand, face to greet him, fist over their hearts in the soldier’s greeting. Jared’s never been military, but he’s one of them. He’s the one who looks after them, never abandons them, even after everyone else has given up on them and they can’t fight anymore, and he knows they’re grateful for that.

A young cadet comes to take his horse. He nervously licks his lips, looks back at the other soldiers. He must find encouragement, because he turns back to Jared and says, “the prince is in his tent.”

“Thank you.”

Jared knows his way around the camp. The soldiers keep standing for him, and those who can’t, greet him from the ground.

The guard at Jensen’s tent gives Jared a small smile before his face reverts back to his stoic mask of professionalism.

Jared inclines his head. “Chris. How’s the shoulder?”

“I can still feel every storm coming, but I can also throw a spear again.” He steps aside. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly.

Jared takes a deep breath and enters the tent. He’s not afraid. He was always the one to take the first step, to push. And he knows Jensen still loves him. He’s seen it in his eyes. But Jensen never took the first step. Not back then, not know. Jensen’s always been more mindful of the difference between their stations. Jared hadn’t cared, but Jensen had never wanted to overstep, to abuse. Had never wanted to ask for something he thought Jared couldn’t deny him. It wasn’t his place to ask. So Jared offered. He had back then, and he would now.

Jensen’s standing in front of a table with a big water tub, a wet towel next to it, stained dark brown and black, dirt and earth. He’s undressed to his underwear and in the process of drying himself off. Jared’s eyes quickly catalog his skin and he’s relieved to see that Jensen’s only cleaning off dirt and sweat, not blood.

The corded muscles dance under Jensen’s skin as he puts the towel down and rubs through his hair. “I’ll be out in a second.”

His voice is hoarse, like it always is after a fight. Jared has heard his commands often enough, in training and in battle. It takes hours for Jensen’s voice to get to that rough, deep rasp. Hours out on the field, or hours in bed with Jared. It heats Jared’s stomach every time he hears it. It means Jensen fought and survived. It means Jensen still belongs to him.

“What—” Jensen turns and stops. Stills. His eyes burn into Jared’s. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

Jensen licks his lips. “I wasn’t sure.”

Jared raises an eyebrow. “How can you not have been sure?”

“Fourteen years is a long time,” Jensen says.

“I told you, I’d always love you.”

Jensen nods. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. Not when you're hurt. Angry. Disappointed.”

“Didn’t you even want to know?” Jared shakes his head. “I had to find out through the rumor mill.”

“I couldn’t—I’m your prince. The commander of the army. If I call on you, you have to come. And I couldn’t ask this of you.” Jensen swallows. “I left you. I have no right to ask you back.”

Jared nods. “I thought as much. That’s why I’m here.”

“Just like that?” Jensen’s voice is full of disbelief and longing. “It’s that easy?”

Jared raises his shoulders. “Easy? No. I’m hurt. I’m disappointed that you didn’t fight for us, that it was her who had to make the choice. I’m angry at you, for abandoning me.”

The muscles in Jensen’s torso and arms tense, harsh ripples under his skin. “I couldn’t do that to her. I’d already hurt you so much, I thought that maybe I could do right by her at least.”

Bitterness fills Jared. He understands, he does, but that doesn’t make it less unfair. “How did that work out?” he asks.

Jensen hunches his shoulders. “I destroy everything I touch.”

“Jensen—”

“No.” He raises his hands, turns them over. “I was made for war, Jared. I was made to fight, to kill, to destroy. I didn’t have a choice. My father gave me a little wooden sword when I was one year old. I learned to walk with a weapon in my hand.” He looks up at Jared with a twisted expression. “When you healed my leg, you saved my life. And then I destroyed yours.”

“Good thing I’m a healer then.”

Jensen swallows, takes a step towards Jared. “What if there are wounds that you can’t heal?”

Jared raises his chin. “Then I work on them until they’re manageable.”

“It’s been fourteen years,” Jensen says hoarsely. “What if I’m not the same man you loved? What if I’m—what if we’re going to be different? What if it won’t be worth it?”

 _For you_ , hangs unspoken in the air.

“That’s my choice.” Jared clenches his jaw. “Because this time, I get to make the choice.”

Jensen’s eyes are stormy, and his hands clench, but eventually, he straightens up, pulls his shoulders back. “Yeah.”

Jared slowly walks towards him. Stops just an arm span away from him. Takes stock.

Jensen’s in his forties now, and he’s changed. His body has changed. He has more scars, for one. A long jagged line down his arm, a couple of faded ones along his side. Jared knew about the injuries, it always made the rounds when the prince got injured, but Jared made sure only the best physicians were assigned to Jensen’s campaigns.

Jensen’s broader too, more solid. His arms are a little thicker, his shoulders more muscled. His torso has widened, and the outline of his ribs under his fair skin has almost disappeared.

His hands have more calluses, more nicks, and blemishes. The freckles on his arms have darkened.

The crinkles he always got in the corner of his eyes when he smiled have turned into permanent crow’s feet, and there are deepening lines next to his mouth. His jaw is broader too and his stubble a little denser. His hair is a shade darker and graying at his temples. But his lips are still full and berry red and his eyes are still framed by long dark lashes and shine like dried meadow grass after a summer rain. There's a weariness in them, a hardness that wasn’t there before.

Jensen cockes his head. “What’s the verdict?”

Jared reaches out, slowly, fits his hand to Jensen’s cheek, feels the new wrinkles and grooves. “You're still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Jensen doesn’t smile. Instead, his hands grip Jared’s face, pulling him in for a quick hard kiss. “You’ve never looked in a mirror then.”

Jared huffs out a laugh, but Jensen doesn’t stop kissing him. It’s like a dam has broken. His mouth is frantic, his breathing harsh. His hands wander until they’re buried in Jared’s hair until he can grip tight and pull him tighter. “I’m glad you didn’t cut it.”

“I did,” Jared breathes out and Jensen pulls back, stares at him aghast.

Jared laughs, and it’s not as bitter as he thought it would be. “After, I—I cut it. Kept it short for a while. But I never really liked it.” He licks his lips, leans into Jensen’s hands. “I never let anyone pull it though. Everything else, I could handle, but that—I couldn’t have anyone else touch my hair.”

Violently, Jensen pulls him in again. “No one else, ever again. I swear.”

“You swear?”

“I have a choice now,” Jensen says, “and I choose you. I love you above all others, always have.” Jensen’s voice is hoarse, almost desperate in his desire to make Jared believe. “I swear to cherish you above all others. I swear to protect you and to serve you. And I swear to hold you above all others.”

Jared leans into Jensen, lets him take his weight.

It still hurts. He’s still angry and disappointed. The wound in his heart has festered for fourteen years. It will take time to heal. It will leave a scar.

Jensen kisses him, again and again. “I choose you. I swear, I will always choose you.”

And Jared knows it will be worth it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here ](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


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